


Of Impurely Academic Interest

by mongoose_bite



Series: Dyce the Incredibly Easy Breton [23]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Glasses, M/M, Modern Era, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: Aerik hired Dyce to investigate his dad. What did he think was going to happen?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Dyce the Incredibly Easy Breton [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/29749
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38
Collections: 5E201, OC Kiss Bingo 2020





	Of Impurely Academic Interest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thanatopsiturvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/gifts).



> Finally breaking a very long writing drought for the OC Kiss Bingo. Nilandur and Aeric belong to [Thanatopsiturvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/pseuds/Thanatopsiturvy) . Thank you for your endless encouragement, and for letting me borrow Nils and ruffle him.

Dyce was going to university. Essentially because he’d run out of better ideas.

He wasn’t going as himself, of course. Too old to be an undergrad and too rough around the edges to pass as staff, he spent the morning blearily sanding some of those edges off, temporarily. His beloved leather jacket was swapped for a much nerdier coat, and he combed his hair neatly before tying it back. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses completed the hipsterisation project, and he yawned as he went out to his car.

He’d stayed up studying too.

It wasn’t that he was being paid a lot for this job; Aerik couldn’t afford more than the minimum Dyce normally charged, but he liked the man and he wanted to have something more useful to report than, “Your dad needs to get out more.”

Because Aerik had hired Dyce to investigate his own father. Luckily he hadn’t asked for a background check; Dyce charged a lot more to uncover the unsavoury pasts of mer simply because there was usually a lot more of it to go through. Although Nilandur might be a rare exception.

Dyce didn’t know what he was looking for, because Aerik didn’t seem to have a clear idea either. He’d rambled about his complicated feelings for half an hour, but other than a grumbling and suspicious, “I just want to know what he’s up to,” he had no other instructions.

It wasn’t a high priority, but business was slow and Dyce had rent to pay, so he’d spent some time establishing that Nilandur rarely socialised, stuck rigidly to his academic timetable, kept all appointments and essentially never did anything unexpected. If he had a secret sex dungeon or a Sixth House shrine it was going to take more than distant observation to locate it.

Hence the disguise.

Dyce kept an eye on the university events page and had learned that this week Whiterun University was hosting some sort of conference on literature analysis, and armed with an extensive glossary Dyce thought he could maybe bullshit convincingly on the topic for about half an hour. But it meant a lot of visitors to the university, none really to do with Nilandur’s areas of interest. Perfect.

Dyce was listening to yet another Thalmor podcast as he crawled through the morning traffic into Whiterun. He still hadn’t worked out why Nilandur kept guesting on them, or why they kept inviting him, as he didn’t seem to tell them what they wanted to hear. If there was anything unsavoury to turn up, this was the most likely angle. If nothing else, he was giving them legitimacy.

After the business with Ondolemar, Dyce had no love for the Thalmor, rebranded or otherwise.

Dyce managed to find somewhere to park, and with his satchel over his shoulder went in search of some credentials. The coffee shop closest to the main entrance and a carefully-orchestrated collision with a redguard with a visitor pass was enough to get the light-fingered PI what he needed. He clipped on the visitor label, and then strolled up to the welcome booth to help himself to an information pack that he tucked under his arm with the cover facing out.

Now all he had to do was kill time until Nilandur’s last class, luckily the library was very comfortable.

Dyce knew Nilandur’s timetable off by heart, but nevertheless he creaked the door at the back of the lecture theatre open a few minutes after class had started. Nilandur looked up at the interruption and Dyce met his gaze for the first time. He grinned apologetically and ducked his head in a please-don’t-mind-me gesture, before selecting a seat at the back.

Class resumed.

Dyce watched Nilandur teach, although he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to the content. Their eyes would meet occasionally, and Dyce speculated about Nilandur’s theoretical sex dungeon.

When the lecture concluded Dyce waited for a handful of students to ask their questions before ambling down in his unassuming academic guise to introduce himself. He saw Nilandur take in his visitor’s pass and conference pack and explained that he always tried to attend a few random lectures whenever he travelled for conferences.

“I hope you found it enlightening,” Nilandur said.

“Far more than the ones where they fill the screen with maths.” Dyce held out his hand. “I’m Dyce. Don’t let me keep you if you have somewhere to be.”

Dyce knew he didn’t and true to form Nilandur was completely honest about it. How this man survived academia Dyce had no idea. The College of Winterhold would have eaten him alive.

“What is your area of study?” Nilandur enquired, as he packed up his laptop.

“Semiotics of erotic literature,” Dyce replied promptly, and resisted the urge to laugh as Nilandur did a double take and failed to quite meet Dyce’s eyes either time. Maybe his guise wasn’t as unassuming as he’d thought.

Which might be for the best; he’d had a lot of luck prising information out of repressed altmer, although Nilandur was of the awkward rather than haughty persuasion, a rarity in itself.

“Oh, I’m not sure I have much to contribute on that topic.”

“I told you, I pick classes at random,” Dyce replied. “In this case, I liked the look of the lecturer.” He gave that a moment to sink in before moving on; there was a risk Nilandur would bolt if he came on too strong. “So what are you working on? I imagine you’re sick of fielding questions about the Thalmor.”

“Well, yes, but it’s not a bad place to start if you’re new to the subject.” On this Dyce was on firmer ground. Investigating Nilandur meant spending some time on his work, and Dyce was able to keep up, more or less. Or maybe the glasses were making him more intelligent. Finding out Nilandur’s real thoughts on the Thalmor was on his list and all he had to do to get them was keep him talking.

And to do _that_ all he had to do was look attentive and drop an occasional compliment, which invariably made Nilandur tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear and go slightly bronzer as he hurried on to the next point.

“Aerik, your dad is adorable,” probably wouldn’t make for a good report either, but Dyce wasn’t turning up much else. They made their way verbally back through Nilandur’s published papers and physically to the sushi place near campus, which was both relatively cheap and popular, requiring them to perch on tiny stools and lean in close over tiny dishes and bottles of beer to hear each other. Nilandur did not fold well into these furnishings, which were sized for bosmer and he apologised profusely every time his knee knocked into Dyce’s under the table. Dyce resisted the urge to reach down and squeeze it.

Thalmor dog whistles got no response, and Nilandur looked worried when he mentioned a podcast and Dyce asked him if he thought it was a good idea going on them.

“What else am I supposed to do? I can give the listeners facts and reasoned arguments and that’s important. Don’t you think so?”

“I think you should be careful,” Dyce said softly.

Nilandur sighed and they fell silent.

“I’ve talked too much,” Nilandur said. “And all about my studies too, you must think I’m very rude. Tell me about your work on… uh.”

Dyce couldn’t help but grin as he watched Nilandur realise he’d forgotten what Dyce’s purported area of study was, and his grin widened further as he watched the mer remember.

“Semiotics of Erotics, as they call it in the department,” Dyce supplied helpfully.

“Yes. That.”

It was an opening that would take a better man than Dyce to resist, and he leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Nilandur’s gold-green eyes over the rim of his glasses.

“If you’re tired of talking, you could take me back to your place and I could show you some of the things I’ve learned.” This time it was Dyce’s knee that pressed against Nilandur’s, an encouraging nudge to match Dyce’s inviting grin.

“Is it really appropriate?” Nilandur was practically whispering.

“I don’t see any reason why it’s not,” Dyce said. “What are conferences for but intellectual stimulation? It’s been marvellous so far, but I think we could stimulate things further.” He leaned back abruptly, “I understand if I’ve overstepped the mark or caused offence.”

“No,” Nilandur said quickly.

Dyce raised an eyebrow.

“It’s very hot in here we should-” he fumbled for his wallet but Dyce stopped him.

“I’ll get it. I’m on an expense account.” Thanks Aerik.

“How did you manage that?” Nilandur looked genuinely taken aback.

“I’m silver-tongued,” Dyce said. “I’ll show you if you like.”

Nilandur didn’t say no, merely smiled in a shell-shocked sort of way, and Dyce wasn’t terribly surprised. He knew for a fact Nilandur didn’t make a habit of this sort of thing.

Dyce decided against inflicting the mess in his car on Nilandur and simply claimed he didn’t have one, which immediately induced the mer to offer him a lift.

“I thought we were going to your place,” Dyce said lightly.

“Y-yes all right,” Nilandur said, and Dyce kept his hands to himself as Nilandur drove to his modest house in the extremely boring suburb he’d planted himself in. Dyce slung his satchel over his shoulder and followed Nilandur to his front door.

Once inside Nilandur fluttered about apologising for non-existent mess. Dyce just watched him steadily until he calmed down and Nilandur eventually apologised for neglecting him.

“Would you like a drink? I have tea.”

“Not really,” Dyce said, and dropped his satchel on the floor. He’d merely stuffed the conference papers on top and the strap gave way, the contents spilling out. Nilandur exclaimed and stepped forward to help pick it up, but Dyce ignored it, instead slowly stalking over towards Nilandur, who despite his age, height, and social standing, simply froze when Dyce appeared in his path.

“You’re making me feel like a beast,” Dyce said.

“You’re not! You’re very nice, I just can’t understand why you’d want to be here,” he trailed off, looking worried.

“Let me explain,” Dyce began, and when the prospect of a thoughtful explanatory lecture caused Nilandur to relax Dyce reached up and caught his face gently in his hands and kissed him on the mouth.

Nilandur made a muffled sound of indignant surprise but he didn’t pull away so Dyce felt free to ignore it, sliding his hands down Nilandur’s neck, and starting on the buttons on his shirt.

Dyce honestly only intended to ruffle him a little and check back in, but when he moved his mouth down Nilandur’s neck and nipped at his collarbone the altmer gasped and grabbed at the back of Dyce’s very uncool coat as his body jackknifed, apparently of its own volition.

Dyce was obliged to catch his balance in response and they both staggered until Nilandur’s back hit the nearest wall. Someone had a hair trigger. Well, more evidence against the sex dungeon theory. Dyce tasted salt off Nilandur’s skin, and sucked at his collarbone while the mer trembled slightly between him and the wall.

“I think you need the edge taken off,” Dyce said, looking up at Nilandur over the rim of his glasses. “Don’t you agree?”

“Um, how-”

Dyce didn’t break eye contact as his knees hit the carpet with a thump, and he winked before starting on Nilandur’s belt. Nilandur nervously patted Dyce’s head until Dyce paused undressing him long enough to pull out his hair tie and shake his hair loose.

“Do what you like,” Dyce said, his hand slipping into Nilandur’s underwear. He retrieved a handful of elegant, eager cock and grinned, tucking the elastic waistband under Nilandur’s balls; he rather doubted this would take long enough to get too uncomfortable. “And I’ll do what I like.”

With that he took a breath and slid Nilandur’s cock down his throat until the mer’s gold pubic hair was tickling his nose and the mer himself made a kind of astonished squeak. Dyce pulled back slowly, cheeks hollowing as Nilandur curled forward, panting and giving Dyce a kind of half-arsed scalp massage.

If it weren’t for Aerik I’d start to think he was a virgin, Dyce thought. It was almost kind of unfair of him, he knew, but Dyce couldn’t help showing off a bit. It was only minutes before Nilandur was making desperate sounds, his hips moving and his long fingers starting to pull warningly at Dyce’s hair.

“I’m sorry, you have to stop I’m gonna-”

Dyce reached up with his free hand and pushed his glasses up and let Nilandur pull his head away. This meant he could gaze delighted into Nilandur’s face as he came, still apologising, as Dyce felt his come splatter on his cheeks and chin, spots decorating the lenses of his glasses.

Maybe glasses had their uses, even if your vision was perfect, Dyce mused. It certainly made it easier to take in the view, as Dyce stroked him through the end of it, his gaze flicking between Nilandur's cock and his face.

“Well, hello there,” Dyce said slightly hoarsely, as Nilandur slid, chest heaving, slowly down the wall. So much for a little ruffling.

“Um, you’re,” Nilandur licked his lips and tried to steady his breathing with obvious effort. “You know, kind of,” he gestured to his own face and Dyce grinned.

“It would be a shame to drip on the carpet. Give me a minute to wash up? Then we can cuddle if you like.”

Nilandur flushed and dazedly directed Dyce to the bathroom. It was spotless. Dyce was not.

“He did a number on you,” he told his filthy, grinning reflection, and he took off the glasses to wash them first.

Once he was presentable he did a quick sweep of the medicine cabinet, but he didn’t want to take too long and give Nilandur a chance to overthink things.

Nilandur had tidied himself up too, and he was standing in the living room, frowning at the sheaf of papers in his hands. He didn’t stop frowning when Dyce reappeared.

Dyce knew what he was looking at; his glossary, the only reason Dyce knew the word ‘semiotics’ let alone how to use it in a sentence.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but I don’t quite understand,” Nilandur said.

Dyce could still lie. It wouldn’t be hard to come up with something, but he didn’t see any use in it. He sighed and dug out his licence, handing it over without comment.

“You’re a detective? Why are you here? Who hired you?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Dyce said, “But it wasn’t someone who means you harm. The opposite probably, if they can get their head out of their arse long enough to realise it.”

Dyce took the card back, Nilandur just looked bewildered.

“I apologise for misleading you,” Dyce said. “But don’t think this,” he gestured between them, “Is just how I do my job.” He reached out for his satchel and Nilandur handed it to him. “If I had my way, I would blow your mind, and leave you utterly fuckstruck,” Dyce told him sincerely, and Nilandur almost looked like he was contemplating inviting him to stay anyway, releasing the strap of Dyce's satchel with reluctance, his gaze fixed on Dyce's face.

Dyce shook his head. “It’s not out of the question entirely, but not tonight.”

Nilandur took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Dyce could see he’d left a red mark on his collarbone, barely visible under his shirt, that would probably bruise.

“That would be the intelligent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“And you are very intelligent,” Dyce said. “And handsome, and your cock is marvellous. I truly hope you won't think too badly of me. I’ll see myself out.”

After shutting Nilandur’s front door he wasted no time digging out his phone, and he stood in the deserted suburban street as he waited for Aerik to pick up.

“Hello?”

“You and your father deserve each other,” Dyce said. “And I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Now.” He didn’t wait for a response. “You have two options. One; I get a cab, and you, as my client, will pay for it. Or two, you come and pick me up from your dad’s place and we are going to go somewhere and talk.”

He got Aerik’s grudging agreement and hung up.

“Come on, help me help them eh?”

She didn’t answer, but that didn't mean She wasn’t listening.


End file.
